


Drapes and Domesticity

by cereal, gallifreyburning



Series: fic tennis [3]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Doctor Who AU, F/M, Pete's World
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-11-28
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:48:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cereal/pseuds/cereal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyburning/pseuds/gallifreyburning





	Drapes and Domesticity

[gallifreyburning](http://gallifreyburning.tumblr.com/):

Rose asked the Doctor to meet her for some shopping over lunch. They’d done it before, mostly to buy him clothes, a process he tolerated with great patience. Partially because he was just vain enough to enjoy preening in front of the changing room mirrors, partially because he had created a game for himself where he tried to lure Rose into the changing room, claiming he needed an opinion on whether a certain pair of trousers were too tight. After a bit of hot breath and kissing and friction, the trousers were inevitably too tight.

So shopping over lunch wasn’t new, and the Doctor showed up with his usual bright enthusiasm – visions of changing rooms and Rose and full-length mirrors dancing in his head. He wasn’t expecting to be dragged to a fabric store.

“Drapes, Doctor. For the living room. If you’re going to institute Naked Wednesday Night, we’re going to have to take some precautions.”

Suddenly, the Doctor’s head went right back to Krop Tor. To  _“You’ll have to get a house, with carpet and drapes. You’ll have to get a morrrrt-gage.”_

He felt strangely short of breath, panic clawing at his stomach. “I … just realized, I … was supposed to meet Pete today. To talk about that paperwork … for the Torchwood … thing.” 

[allrightfine](http://allrightfine.tumblr.com/):

Rose squinted at him, cocking her head in a way that made the Doctor feel like –  _oh, she knows_.

After a long moment of fidgeting under her scrutiny, he watched as she seemed to come to a decision.

“That’s all right,” she said. “Only I’ve just realized – we promised Tony that superhero cape, probably don’t have time to look at cape fabric  _and_ drapes fabric.”

The Doctor felt his heart slow to a calmer rhythm, the hot flush across the back of his neck dissipating. He nodded at her to continue.

“Tony’s obviously more important, so if you have to leave, I can handle it on my own. Drapes can wait a while.”

Now that this trip was no longer about window coverings, he decided it was safe to blow off his fake meeting with Pete, made up as it was.

“No, no, I took the measurements after all, don’t need you buying a cape he’ll be swimming in. That’s a right danger, that is. Or too short! Nothing like try to fight off an evil villain while he’s laughing at your wardrobe choices. Trust me, I’d know.”

“Oh, I don’t know, I thought the trainers and suit thing worked for you,” and she turned on her heel toward more child-friendly fabrics.

“I wasn’t talking about this me! Rose! Rose –”

[gallifreyburning](http://gallifreyburning.tumblr.com/):

“S’fine, Doctor,” Rose interrupted brusquely. She yanked a bolt of fabric off the shelf, grey flannel with a yellow bat-shaped symbol woven into it. “Was it Batman? Was that what Tony wanted?”

“Hulk,” the Doctor replied, tugging at the neck of his shirt out of nervous habit. He wasn’t wearing the suit – today it was jeans and a long-sleeved sweater. He had a yearning for those pinstripes at the moment, though. They were his armor, and he definitely felt in need of some protection.

Rose was staring at him, left eyebrow arched in disbelief. “The Hulk doesn’t wear a cape.”

He shrugged and shook his head. “The whims of a child are difficult to understand, Rose. Logic just doesn’t apply.”

For some reason, she smirked and giggled. “Oh, Doctor. Tell me about it.”

“I have the distinct feeling I should be offended,” he said, shoving his hands into his jean pockets, but she’d already turned her back and continued down the aisle toward a bolt of green fabric, so he couldn’t see her expression.

The Doctor was disappointed to learn that fabric stores didn’t have changing rooms. In the parking lot, Rose put the yards of green cotton/polyester blend in his hands and gave him a peck on the cheek. She hopped in her car without a look back and was gone.

[allrightfine](http://allrightfine.tumblr.com/):

He stood where she’d left him until his hands grew sweaty around the fabric. He’d taken the tube to the store, figuring he’d catch a lift with Rose wherever she was going next.

At the time he’d made his transportation decisions, that was hopefully going to be back to the flat for a lunch shag. Now he was stuck without a ride, without a shag, and was Rose — she was mad at him, wasn’t she? Or was it disappointed?

Maybe walking home would help him figure it out.

It did not.

Back in the flat, the sunlight streaming through the windows seemed unnaturally bright and warm, and the necessity of drapes was immediately apparent.

Why had he reacted like that? Plenty of domestics in his life now. Meeting your girlfr — your  _Rose_ on a lunch break, that was domestic. Waking up in the same bed as her, curling up on the couch together, dinner at the kitchen table, domestic, domestic, domestic.

He’d jumped head first into all of that, for the most part. Maybe drapes could be the same. After unraveling the fabric for Tony’s cape, he found a roll of packaging tape and set to covering the windows, just to see. It wouldn’t be permanent, but he could try it out — drapes, in their flat.

And if Rose wanted to take advantage of the temporarily increased privacy, well, he was never one to deny her.  

[gallifreyburning](http://gallifreyburning.tumblr.com/):

It  _was_ Wednesday, after all. And she  _had_  agreed last week that Nudity Wednesday Night was a brilliant idea.  

The Doctor changed into his pinstripes – this kind of experiment  _certainly_ required the proper armor. And transdimensional pockets didn’t hurt, either. He worked all afternoon, and by the time Rose came home after work, he was quite proud of the progress he’d made.

Tony’s superhero cape fabric was taped over the windows like blackout curtains gone into a Hulk-y green rage. The clean laundry was folded into perfect hexagons and stacked on the couch. The carpet was spotless – a bit threadbare, too, since he’d jiggered with the suction power of the vacuum and accidentally sucked away most of the pile. But it was _undeniably_ dirt-free.

Dishes were carefully laid out on the table, the scent of cooking food filled the flat, and every candle Rose had ever owned had been pulled out and scattered across all the level surfaces. An old boombox sat on the counter, tape cued to “In Your Eyes” and ready to go –  _that_ bit had required a trip to the second-hand shop down the street, but according to the Doctor’s research, it would be worth it.

Rose stood outside the open front door, key still held up in her hand from unlocking the bolt, surveying his handiwork with eyes wide and mouth agape.

[allrightfine](http://allrightfine.tumblr.com/):

He could tell from the way her blazer was still on and her blouse was still done up a Torchwood-appropriate amount of buttons that she, too, had felt the need for armor. Usually by the time she was coming through the door, she had dismantled work-Rose, at least a bit.  
  
It was a good job he’d prepared so thoroughly then.  
  
Rushing to greet her, he plucked the glass of wine from where it was waiting for her on the coffee table.  
  
He presented it to her with a flourish, leaning over to kiss her cheek and ushering her into the flat.  
  
“Welcome home!”

Rose still looked gob-smacked, “You, you – what did you do?”

“I revisited my stance on drapes! Turns out, I’m firmly in support of drapes, I’m pro-drapes, drapes-affirmative, drapes and I go together likes peas and carrots. If drapes were on a ballot –“

Rose held up her hand and then took a long sip of her wine, “Slow down there, Forrest Gump.”

It wasn’t an out-and-out dismissal of his efforts, which he was grateful for, although the guarded look on her face implied that perhaps he ought to wait a bit before the opening ceremonies for Nudity Wednesday Night.

He took a breath and tried his best to slow his speech.

“I’ve made dinner. I thought we could eat and I could try and explain why I invented a meeting to avoid shopping for window coverings.”

[gallifreyburning](http://gallifreyburning.tumblr.com/):

Rose plopped down on the sofa, shrugging off her jacket, and stared at him expectantly.

“Nononononono, at the table. I made dinner,” he said, doing an excellent job of hiding his pride in his cooking prowess.

Rose’s mouth did a funny twisting thing and a half-stifled snort of laughter escaped her, but she obligingly came to the table. The Doctor strutted to the oven, pulled a flowered apron off a nearby hook and girded himself, tying it around his waist, before donning oven mitts and gingerly pulling open the oven door. With a triumphant noise, he snatched the food out of the oven and brought it to the table, plopping the round pan in front of Rose.

“Frozen pizza?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and trying unsuccessfully to smother a smile.

“It’s got mushrooms and olives, your favorite!”

Her smile was completely out of control now, containing it seemed beyond her capabilities. “It  _is_ my favorite. And it looks delicious.”

The Doctor fetched their wine glasses, sliced the pizza, and then sat down across from her.

“So, Doctor,” Rose said after they’d eaten a few bites. “You invented a meeting to avoid shopping for drapes?”

“Riiiiiiiiight,” he replied, clearing his throat and taking a very undainty swig of wine.

[allrightfine](http://allrightfine.tumblr.com/):

Rose was watching him expectantly.   
  
“Well, see, the thing was —”   
  
If he knew what the thing was, they wouldn’t be in this situation, he would’ve dealt with the thing months ago, sat it down, said,  _listen, thing, I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, but you’re really sticking my foot in it with Rose so maybe shove off, ta._  
  
But instead he had an indefinable sense of fear and anxiety and a tendency to blurt words out without thinking them through, a tendency he was apparently going to be showcasing right this very moment.  
  
“— domestics.”   
  
Rose pushed her chair back from the table and took a deep breath, looking the Doctor up and down.  
  
“You are literally wearing a flowered apron.”  
  
Oh, brilliant, Rose was just going to accept his non-answer and let them move on. Nudity Wednesday: back on the table! Ah, the table, that’s a thought, would the wood be smooth enough, or would there be a splinter-risk? Rose would probably have an opinion —   
  
“— and I just can’t understand, I mean, it’s hard for me to gauge what it’ll be this time. Paint the bedroom? Totally fine! Ask you to pick up more bread? Sulk right through the evening! Breakfast for dinner was  _your_  idea, Doctor.”  
  
Had she been talking this whole time?

[gallifreyburning](http://gallifreyburning.tumblr.com/):

“I like waffles in the evening, it’s true,” he said slowly, rubbing his jaw and staring at her mouth, as though if he concentrated hard enough he could hear the words she had just spoken, like an echo. Or maybe she wouldn’t mind if he just started  _kissing_ those lips. That would also be an acceptable outcome.

Rose rolled her eyes. The Doctor resigned himself to the reality that kissing seemed optimistic to hope for at this point in the evening. “I need a field guide to Time Lords with domestic paranoia disorder, Doctor. I just don’t know what to  _do_  with you.”

“I’ve never been average, not for a Time Lord and certainly not for a human,” the Doctor blurted. “But now I’m _both,_  and sometimes I like breakfast for dinner, but curtains feel oppressive – except, ironically, the curtains in the dungeon of the High Lord of Bramgilla, where they were a lovely shade of daffodil yellow.”

Rose stared at him like he was speaking nonsense. He did a quick mental review of the last several seconds, determined that he’d actually been speaking English instead of accidentally slipping into Gallifreyan or Farsi. Obviously, tales of Bragmilla weren’t going to get his point across. He gestured to his flowery apron and the flat in general, to everything domestic in the vicinity. “I’m  _trying_ , Rose. Really, I am.”

[allrightfine](http://allrightfine.tumblr.com/):

She sighed and the Doctor let his shoulders slump. Was this what happened to other couples? Just the same fight, over and over, in different forms, for their entire lives?

Because that was far scarier than some silly drapes.

“I know you’re trying, Doctor. I  _know_ ,” she leaned forward to take his hand, curling her fingers in and batting at his thumb with her own. Could they settle this with thumb-wrestling? He was brilliant at thumb-wrestling. He took a few experimental swipes and Rose pinned him easily.

So much for that.

“Is it that trying isn’t good enough? Because I’ll get better. At trying. At not having to try? You tell me what to get better at, and I’ll get better at it.”

Rose’s thumb pressed down on his own again, “That’s just it —  _I’m_  always telling  _you_  things.  _You_  never tell  _me_ , you just shut down, walk away,” she released his hand to gesture with hers, a quick, flighty wave, “invent a meeting.”

He felt so tired all of the sudden, was he supposed to try and make her happy or was he supposed to tell her things? Because those two actions didn’t always go hand in hand.

“I don’t know  _what_  to tell you, Rose. Would it have been helpful, in the middle of a fabric store, on your lunch hour, to tell you that the thought of picking out drapes terrifies me? Drapes aren’t a necessity, they’re not floors or doors or painting over the charred marks from a minor explosion in the bedroom. Drapes mean you’re settling in, making it a home, that you’re happy enough where you are to — I don’t know —  _accessorize_.”

[gallifreyburning](http://gallifreyburning.tumblr.com/):

A certain kind of comprehension dawned across Rose’s face, like she’d forgotten some inexorable fact that had just made itself plain again. “You’re … still you.”

She said the words like they should mean something to him –  _did they_? He scoured his memory; he remembered  _everything_ when it came to Rose. Every brush of skin, every glint of sunlight off her hair, every gaze met and word spoken, the minutiae contained in a hundred thousand seconds of their shared life, whether he’d had two hearts or one beating inside of his chest. Everything was indexed in the vast catalogue of his mostly-Time Lord brain, but those words –  _you’re still you_ — they didn’t exist.

The realization was an unsettling one. The Doctor did what he always did when he felt unsettled: reached for Rose’s hands again, threaded fingers together.

Eyes locked to hers, feeling more than a bit lost and failing to hide the fact, he told her the truth, “I’m still me.”

To his further bafflement, her face scrunched up, chin quivering and brows furrowing as she tried to fight off tears. She practically threw herself across the table and into his lap, arms wrapping around him and face buried in his neck.

“S’okay, Doctor. I can pick out the drapes, if you don’t want to. Or we can sell the flat and find one without windows. Or we can borrow Pete and Mum’s camper and wander every back-road between here and Shanghai. Just  _tell_   _me_ so we can do it together, instead of running away to made-up meetings.”

[allrightfine](http://allrightfine.tumblr.com/):

The Doctor saw with perfect clarity that there was going to come a time when she was going to have to explain to him what had just happened. Because he saw, also with perfect clarity, that he wasn’t going to get there on his own.

But that time wasn’t right now.

Right now was for hugging her back, wrapping his arms around her, telling her he loved her.

"I love you, Rose. I’ll tell you about every problem, every fear I have, if that’s what you want."

She pulled back to look at him, “Yeah? You could really do that? You won’t feel like you have to shoulder everything alone, like you have to protect me?”

He picked at a piece of a lint near her shoulder before forcing himself to look her in the eye.

"Oh, I’ll always feel a little like that, I expect. But I can do it anyway. I hate the thought that I’m hurting you more, by trying not to hurt you."

She pulled closer to him for another hug, “That’s exactly it. It  _hurts_ , Doctor.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the soft, warm glow that was Rose. When he opened them again, his eyes focused on the clock. It was early enough yet to still take advantage of those makeshift drapes.

Tapping her leg to get her to stand, he rose, too, and rested his fingers on the clasp of her trousers. She arched her eyebrows, a look that clearly implied he was being awfully brave with that move.

"Shall I start telling you my problems and fears now?"

She glanced back down at his hands, “Sure.”

"I have a  _problem_  with all these clothes you’re wearing and I  _fear_  that I won’t be able to get them all off of you as fast as I’d like.”

Rose grinned at him, hands rising to the buttons of her blouse, “Quicker with two.”


End file.
